R.I.P.

Writing in the New York Mercury in 1863, Robert Henry Newell noted the curious pine-board epitaph of a Union fifer at Manassas:

http://books.google.com/books?id=CylLAAAAIAAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=%22Orpheus+C.+Kerr+%22&as_brr=1&ei=qreiScWwHpHKMsSk3YoC&rview=1#PPA126,M1

The lower portion “had to be inscribed figuratively, in order to get it all upon the narrow monument.” It means:

http://books.google.com/books?id=CylLAAAAIAAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=%22Orpheus+C.+Kerr+%22&as_brr=1&ei=qreiScWwHpHKMsSk3YoC&rview=1#PPA126,M1

“In all its praise of that quiet sleep in which there are no anticipations to be disappointed, no gluttony to make sick, and no Confederacies to guard against,–the verse will be plain to all.”

A Pangrammatic Highway

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:I-287_Wanaque_NJ.jpg
Image: Wikipedia

A 0.8-mile stretch of northbound Interstate 287 in New Jersey contains these signs:

WASHINGTON’S HEADQUARTERS
NO TRUCKS IN LEFT LANE
LAFAYETTE AVE.
EXIT 20 MPH
BRIDGE FREEZES BEFORE ROAD SURFACE
INTERSTATE NEW JERSEY 287

To date this is the shortest reported stretch of U.S. highway whose permanent, official signs contain all 26 letters of the alphabet. Do you know a shorter one?

“The Farmer’s Life”

The farmer leads no E Z life;
The C D sows will rot;
And when at E V rests from strife
His bones all A K lot.

In D D has to struggle hard
To E K living out:
If I C frosts do not retard
His crops there’ll B A drought.

The hired L P has to pay
Are awful A Z, too;
They C K rest when he’s away,
Nor N E work will do.

Both N Z can not make to meet,
And then for A D takes
Some boarders who so R T eat
& E no money makes.

Of little U C finds this life;
Sick in old A G lies.
The debts he O Z leaves his wife.
And then in P C dies.

— Anonymous, The Indiana School Journal, August 1886

Immortalized

In 1914, Collier’s assigned writer Julian Street to write a feature about Denver. Street duly arrived in town, but he didn’t venture far from the red-light district on Myers Avenue, and he spent most of his time there interviewing a Madam Leo, who gave him a story “hot enough to burn the paper on which it is written.”

To get even for the bad press, the town council ordered a new name for the prostitutes’ lane: They called it Julian Street.